by Asha Lemmie
Nori felt a tear slide down her cheek. But there was still no pain her hand.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
Akira shook his head. “Before I met you, I was certain of everything. I was completely self-absorbed, there was no one I cared about, so nothing could ever hurt me. And I convinced myself that I was happy.”
“And you weren’t?”
He smiled at her. “I was safe. I was convinced of my own worth and that was all I needed.”
He wrapped her hand, layer by layer, in thick white bandages. Then he pressed it to his heart.
“You taught me another way.”
She looked at him, speechless. “I’ve never taught you anything.”
He smiled again, and this time, it pierced her heart like an arrow.
“You have, Nori. And if it comes down to a choice, between our family or my music or anything else . . . I will always choose you.”
Her whole body erupted in chills. She drew back her hand.
“Because I’m your responsibility? Or because I’m your half sister?”
Akira tapped her lightly on the bridge of her nose. “Because you are you.”
For a long time, neither of them spoke. Then Akira stood up.
“I told Ayame-san to get the doctor. That hand might need stitches,” he said quietly, as if he too was reluctant to break the silence. “I should go check on that.”
She looked up at him. “You should go to Vienna,” she said simply.
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
“I want you to go,” she said, and miraculously, it rang true. “I think you should go and make beautiful music, and see beautiful buildings, and be happy. And when you are finished, come back. Take your lessons from our grandmother, marry a girl, do your duty.”
Akira looked grave. “You know everything will change when I become head of the family. Everything will be different.”
She smoothed down her skirt. “Everything is always different, Oniichan. Just come back to me.”
He nodded and went out.
Nori was alone but felt it no longer. The warmth in her belly radiated outwards, until she was sure that she glowed like a firefly in the dark.
* * *
December 24th, 1935
I have done it. God works in mysterious ways for I have given my family what it needs above all else: a boy.
He is a beautiful creature and the doctor says he is perfectly healthy. My husband is overjoyed, Mama is on her way from Kyoto to see him. She will throw the largest party the city has ever seen.
All I want to do is rest. They place my boy on my chest and I watch him sleep.
He has a head full of dark hair and the most wonderful eyes, my family’s shade of gray-black. His tiny hands have pink fingernails and he has big feet. I think he will be tall.
He looks as if he were hand-carved just for me.
Mama wants to name him after her father, and my husband wants to name him after his. They want to saddle him from the cradle with the ghosts of dead men. As if his burden is not heavy enough.
But I will name him myself. He is their miracle, their heir, but he is my son.
And I will name him Akira.
The tap on Nori’s bedroom door pulled her from the pages. Carefully, she slipped the diary beneath the pillow. She took a deep breath. She had been waiting for this.
The cracks were sealed shut now.
Without waiting for an answer, Will slipped inside. He was still dressed.
“I knew you’d still be awake,” he said smugly.
She met his gaze. “I think you should leave.”
He laughed at her. “That’s cute. Move over. We don’t have to do anything tonight, I just want to be near you.”
She held out her bandaged hand. Her nightgown slipped off her shoulder, and she felt his eyes on her.
“Please leave, William.”
He frowned and crossed his arms. “What are you on about?”
She took another deep breath. “I think I understand you now. It took me long enough, but I think right now I see you for what you are.”
He scoffed at her. “Really? And what do you see, kitten?”
Nori inclined her head. “You shine so brightly it blinded me at first. Truly, you do. When I first saw you, I thought you were golden.”
Will’s lips peeled back from his teeth. “And now?”
She stood up. “And now I see that you are like enamel. You shine on the outside, but on the inside, there is nothing. I actually feel sorry for you. For I may be a half-breed and a bastard girl, but I am not so sad that I need to steal other people’s light to fill the hole in myself. You . . . you have everything and you still have nothing.”
Will looked as if he’d been struck. He stood there, teetering back and forth. Then he moved towards her.
“Stop it.”
He froze. “You . . . you’re confused. You know that I love you, little Nori.”
“I know that you are jealous of my brother,” she said levelly. “And your cousin. Because I love them both. And I could never love you. Even when I didn’t know why, I knew it was wrong.”
“You don’t know the first thing about love,” he hissed at her.
“No,” she confessed. “But I may one day. You never will because you are capable of loving only yourself. And I feel sorry for you.”
“I’ll be damned if I accept pity from you,” he seethed. He moved forward in three steps and caught her in his arms. “Who has filled your head with this poison? Was it that whore Alice?”
“I have made up my own mind.”
“Impossible,” he taunted. “You have no mind of your own, that is why you are so delightful.”
She looked into his cold blue eyes without flinching. It amazed her how she could have ever been afraid of him, ever thought that she loved him, ever thought that he was anything like Akira.
“I don’t know what love is,” she told him. “But I know it is not this.”
He squeezed her shoulders. “I’m sorry if you think I hurt you. I never meant to.”
She offered up a small, sad smile. “I think you mean that. I really do.”
“Then—”
Nori pushed him away from her. “You’re leaving.”
Will flushed. “We’ll talk again in the morning.”
“You misunderstand. You’re leaving Japan. You’re going back to London and you are taking Alice with you. You are going to tell everyone that she’s been a model citizen and that she’d make a fine wife. That’s what you’re going to do. And you’re going to do it by the end of the month.”
He gaped at her. “And why on earth would I do that?”
Nori gestured towards the door. “Because I think your affection for my brother is genuine. And I would spare him from knowing the truth, ever. But you have to go. You have the world at your feet now with your music, you don’t need to be here. And you have to give Alice another chance to have a life.”
“I will not!” he raged. “I don’t take orders from you. You have no power here. You have no power anywhere. You exist only because of the pity of your betters. Nobody would believe a word from your mouth.”
“Akira-san would,” she said quietly. She held tight to her dignity and did not waver. “Alice would too. And perhaps the London papers. They seem to love a story.”
He cut his eyes at her. “Nobody would listen to you.”
“Maybe not,” she reasoned. “But they can’t stop me from speaking. And I can’t prevent what will happen to you if my brother ever finds out the truth. Or did he not tell you about our family?”
The color drained from his cheeks. He had the look of a cornered wolf on his face, finally outsmarted by the sheep. She realized how easy it must have been for him to manipulate her insecurities. She wore them on he
r sleeve, and he was nothing if not perceptive.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he rasped. “I . . .”
She shook her head. “I am sorry, Will. You . . . you were . . .” She hesitated. Even now, she didn’t hate him. “Thank you for everything you have taught me. I hope you find peace.”
He swallowed. “Don’t make me go back there,” he whimpered. “They’re all . . . None of them are anything like you.”
She smiled. “That’s hardly a tragedy.”
He gave her the most stricken look. “It’s more of one than you will ever know.”
The tragedy was that had he not been so richly indulged, so ensured of his own superiority from birth, he might not have turned out this way at all. But there was no way to know.
Nori held out her hand. “Goodbye, Will.”
“We have . . . we have some more time . . .”
“After tonight you will never speak to me again. You won’t try to catch me alone. This is the end of our game, William.”
He looked struck to the heart. “I don’t want it to end.”
“I know,” she said gently. “But this is what I need. So goodbye.”
He hesitated. He looked as if he wanted nothing more than to seize back control, as if he was wondering if he could get her to change her mind. Apparently the look on her face told him there was no hope.
“I really did want—” He broke off. “Oh, Nori.”
She said nothing. There was nothing else to say.
She watched him go, and when the door shut, she felt a small pang of sadness. But so much larger than that was the sense of soaring freedom.
She remembered, from so long ago, her favorite poem.
I feel this life is
Sorrowful and unbearable
Though I cannot flee away
Since I am not a bird
Nori crossed to the window and threw it open. The moon was half hidden by clouds, but it was still there.
Maybe I can be a bird.
Tokyo, Japan
October 1956
It was a chilly October morning by the time the Stafford cousins were finally ready to leave. After much pleading, and a begrudging endorsement from Will, Alice was at long last permitted to return home.
Nori and Akira saw them to the docks where the ocean liner was waiting to take them back to the West.
Alice cried buckets as she clung to Nori. Her makeup had already sloughed off.
“I wish you could come with me,” she sobbed.
“I’ll write to you every week,” Nori promised, stroking her friend’s silver-blonde hair. “And you must tell me all about the wonderful parties you go to and the pretty dresses you will wear. And when your father arranges your marriage to a handsome gentleman, I will want to know all about it.”
Alice wiped her face with her sleeve. “I love you so, my sweet girl.”
Nori smiled and kissed both her cheeks. “And I you.”
Will and Akira’s parting was considerably more restrained. They shook hands and mumbled some things at each other. In all likelihood they would see each other again, perhaps sooner than Nori would have liked.
“I’ll see you around, then,” Akira said. He failed to hide the disappointment from his voice, and Nori shoved down her guilt for parting them.
Will nodded. “Finish that composition of yours. It’s going to be brilliant.”
“And yours. I think you should take out some of those fermatas. You know I hate them.”
Will smirked. Someone from the boat hollered at them to get on or get left behind.
His eyes fell on Nori.
“Goodbye, then,” he said stiffly.
She inclined her head. “Safe travels, Mr. Stafford.”
He winced. If he’d expected her to have a change of heart at the last moment, he was destined to be disappointed.
She turned to Alice. “Don’t let them break you,” she said simply.
Alice smiled that dazzling smile of hers. “Not this time.”
They boarded the boat. Akira draped his arm across Nori’s shoulder, and they watched it get farther and farther away until it winked off into the gray twilight.
“Are you going to miss them?” Nori asked shyly.
Akira sighed. “A little. But I always knew they’d have to go back to where they belong.”
She felt the guilt wash over her. “Well, you have Vienna to look forward to. You leave in just two weeks.”
He smiled and his eyes lit up. “I am excited,” he confessed. “And I’ve already told the servants to get everything in order for you. You won’t want for anything, I promise.”
She suppressed a giggle. She had been managing the house for years now. Akira didn’t even know where to find the salt shaker.
“Hai, Oniichan.”
“Do you want to go straight back? I have a few hours. We could go into town.”
“That sounds nice.”
He suddenly frowned. “I wish you wouldn’t go out without a coat. You’re going to get sick.”
She wiggled her nose at him. “You worry too much. I am practically indestructible, Oniichan.”
He took off his coat and draped it around her shoulders. “Wear it.”
“Oniichan! You’ll be cold.”
He shrugged. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
She folded her arm into the crook of his elbow and let him lead the way. They never really came to this part of the city; they rarely left the safe enclave of wealthy citizens. The festivals were held closer to where they lived, while still offering a neutral meeting place for everyone.
This part of the city was different. It was full of ordinary people.
As they wound their way through the crowds, Nori watched the messenger boys go by on their bikes and the children walking their dogs. They wound their way through the crowd of people. She let herself drift off into a comfortable waking dream, retaining only enough consciousness to keep her feet moving.
She could smell cooking meats and fish fresh from the ocean. She could hear mothers shouting after their children and men playing dice. There were a few white people too, mingling about with no one giving them a second glance.
Even Nori seemed to blend in seamlessly. Perhaps Japan was more than her grandmother’s Kyoto. Perhaps it was like a tapestry of many colors and she could find somewhere to fit after all.
Akira halted, and Nori snapped out of her trance.
She found herself staring at a short, balding man who was drenched in sweat even though it was cool outside. He was wearing an ugly tweed suit and glasses that were too big for his face. He was looking up at Akira in awe.
He bowed low and nearly dropped the stack of scrolls he was carrying.
“Akira-sama,” he stammered. “It’s such an honor. Such an honor.”
Akira frowned and started to move past him, but Nori pinched his hand. Akira didn’t like being fawned over, but it happened fairly often.
He shot her a swift look that said, Fine, I’ll humor him.
“Konnichiwa. I’m sorry, have we met?”
The man laughed. “Oh, you wouldn’t remember an old fool like me. You were just a child. Your honored mother brought you to my shop years and years ago. You used to like to play with the golden dragons I keep by the register. And she—God bless her—she had a fondness for my silk fans.”
Akira blinked. “Oh. You’re the antique-seller. Hiromoto-san, isn’t it?”
“Yes!” he burst. “Oh, why, yes, you do remember. What an honor. What an honor. It is so wonderful to see you again after all of these years. And so tall!”
Akira flushed. “Yes, well. Thank you.”
Hiromoto turned to Nori and bowed. “And what a pleasure to see you again, chibi hime.”
The memory came back to her in a flash. Though she h
ad done her best to forget that night, it was etched onto her like a tattoo.
“Oh . . . the festival. I bumped into you.”
He laughed. “Indeed, indeed you did.”
Akira glanced at his watch. “Well, if you will excuse us, Hiromoto-san, we really do have to be going.”
He cleared his throat. “Actually, if you would do me the honor, I have a proposition for you. I’ve heard about your music, of course, such a talent you are. Such a credit to this fine city.”
Akira nodded. “Yes, well. Thank you.”
“I am having a small event on Christmas Eve, you see,” he said. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his sweaty forehead. “Nothing too special. But there will be some important people there. Politicians and such. And I would be so honored if you would play. Your mother—God bless her—she played the piano at an event of mine. She moved the audience to tears. This was right before . . .” He coughed. The official story put out by the family was that Seiko had died, but almost everyone knew she’d run away.
“Anyway. I was hoping you would play at my event? I would pay, of course.”
Akira tried and failed to look remorseful. “I am afraid that won’t be possible. I have a prior engagement and will be away for some time.”
Hiromoto’s face fell. “Ah. I see. I understand, of course, I do. I just thought it would be nice to honor the memory of your mother.” He turned to Nori. “I hope you will attend? The more, the merrier.”
She waited for Akira to apologize on her behalf. He’d come up with some excuse, surely.
Akira hesitated. He looked vaguely sentimental, which was rare.
“Well, in that case . . . my sister could play in my stead.”
Nori looked at him, dumbstruck. She was sure she’d misheard.
Hiromoto beamed, revealing the rotten teeth towards the back of his mouth. “Ah! Could she? Why, that would be wonderful, just marvelous. I didn’t realize you had a pupil.”
Nori’s cheeks burned. “He doesn’t.”
“I do,” Akira corrected her. “I trained her myself. She is quite competent. And she has no shortage of free time.”